


The Kid

by thesaddestboner



Series: Hockey Gods [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Detroit Red Wings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-31
Updated: 2005-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ten years is a long time.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a part of the book Hockey Gods which deals with how Chris Osgood and Ken Holland first meet.
> 
> Originally posted on LJ.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

(1991)

The blond kid pushes the snow out of the blue goal crease with his skate blades, biting his tongue between his teeth as he focuses all his energies on the task at hand. His hair is fine and his cheeks are still soft with baby fat; if Kenny didn't know any better, he'd never have pegged the kid for eighteen. More like fifteen. 

"Hey, Osgood." Kenny leans over the boards and taps a spare stick on the ice. The kid doesn't hear him at first, so engrossed in clearing the ice shavings out of his crease, so Kenny says again, a little louder the second time, "Osgood. Chris."

The kid looks up. "Yeah?" He lifts up his helmet to swipe at the sweat beading across his forehead. 

"I'm looking for a goalie for my summer team," Kenny says, beckoning the kid to come closer. "Are you interested?"

Osgood shrugs and skates over to the boards, regarding the older man warily, as all kids his age are wont to do. "Dunno," says Osgood. "It depends."

"We're short a goalie and I was told that I ought to come out and get a look at you," Kenny says. He smiles and the kid loosens up a little, the rigidity flowing out of his young body, his features brightening.

"I'm pretty good," Osgood admits, a wan smile playing with the corner of his mouth. 

"So, are you interested?" Kenny looks at Osgood's eyes, and they're the only part of him that betrays his true age, the rest of him soft and untouched, childlike, Osgood's blue eyes wise beyond their eighteen years. Kenny can almost see Osgood fitting a red-and-white jersey over his head, can almost see it as clear as Osgood's blue-sky eyes.

"Sure," Osgood says, pulling off his blocker and holding out his hand to Kenny. "Chris Osgood. Nice to meet ya . . . ?"

"Ken. Kenny Holland." Kenny gives the kid's hand a hearty shake and notes that his grip is firm, a child with a man's handshake. "Nice to meet you too, kid."

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
